Alone
by DimiGex
Summary: Ino moved around the small room, poking at the piles of magazines, books, and plates that had accumulated on nearly every available surface. "When was the last time you went out of the apartment?" Shikamaru sighed. So, that was Ino's agenda, again.


**Rating:** T

 **Words:** 800

 **Pairing:** Shikamaru/Ino (if you squint)

 **Warnings/Summary:** Angst with some fluff, depression, spoilers warning for the end of Naruto,

 **Author's Note:** Day two of January Drabble Writing Challenge, the prompt was Sunlight.

* * *

When Shikamaru heard knocking at his door, he sighed, closed the book that he'd been reading, and waited for the noise to stop. Silence reigned for approximately thirty seconds, then the banging came again, louder this time. He dropped the book onto his bed without bothering to mark his place; he couldn't remember what he'd been reading anyway. If he kept quiet for a few more minutes-

"I know you're in there," came an all too familiar voice. When Shikamaru didn't answer, it continued. "I'm just going to keep knocking until you let me in, so you might as well-"

Ino's words died when Shikamaru slid back the deadbolt and cracked the door to his apartment. "What do you want?" He asked, bracing the door on his shoulder.

While he knew that he shouldn't be so rude, Shikamaru couldn't summon the energy to moderate his tone to something nicer. Ino ignored it, running her gaze over him. He probably should have change out of the sweats and t-shirt he'd been wearing the past few days, but it hardly mattered. Ino appraised him a second time, then settled on his face. Shikamaru read the sympathy in her eyes, and it made his stomach twist tighter. He repeated his question.

"Your hair is down," Ino observed, ducking beneath Shikamaru's outstretched arm on the door frame. He brushed his fingers through the dark strands before offering a half shrug. Did it really matter that he hadn't pulled his hair back?

Ino moved around the small room, poking at the piles of magazines, books, and plates that had accumulated on nearly every available surface. "When was the last time you went out of the apartment?"

Shikamaru sighed. So, that was Ino's agenda, again. "It's been raining," he stated without meeting her eyes. It had been pouring for what felt like months, the constant gloom hanging over everything. It suited him.

Ignoring Shikamaru's rudeness, Ino threw open the blinds. Sunlight streamed into the room, highlighting the dust motes floating between them. He frowned at the unexpected brightness. It _had_ been raining.

Ino pursed her lips and stared around with an unreadable expression. Shikamaru prefered that to her pity. Over the past three months, he had systematically pushed away everyone close to him. Choji had tried to keep in contact, but he'd faded once Shikamaru made it clear that he wouldn't be brought around. Only Ino outlasted him. She still came by at least once a week in some twisted bid to save him from himself. So frequently, in fact, that he'd ignored her last four attempts. Ino wouldn't tolerate a fifth.

"What do you want from me?" Shikamaru rubbed a hand over his face, surprised to feel the prickle of stubble on his cheeks. The sensation brought back a memory that threatened to steal his breath. He shoved it down.

Ino let out an exasperated breath. "You can't keep hiding away like this, refusing to live the rest of your life."

"I'm not hiding," Shikamaru argued, refusing to acknowledge the rest of her comment. "You obviously know where I am."

"You aren't living either." Ino gestured around the dingy apartment that Shikamaru had taken after the war. He couldn't stay at home any longer, surrounded by the constant reminder of everything he'd lost. "You're barely existing."

Shikamaru couldn't offer an argument in his favor, so he remained silent. "Do you think this is what any of them would want?" Ino exploded. "Do you think Asuma would want you holed up away from everyone? Do you think your dad would want you wasting your talent and your genius to feel sorry for yourself?

"It doesn't really matter what any of them want, does it?" Shikamaru spat back.

Ino's mouth fell open, and for the first time, Shikamaru noticed the grief in her face as well. The subtle bags under her eyes, disguised, but not erased, by makeup, and the downturn of her mouth, not an affected pout to get her way. "You aren't the only one who lost someone, you know," Ino whispered, shaking her head. "I miss them too."

Realization halted Shikamaru's tongue, which Ino undoubtedly saw as another rebuff. She moved toward the door without a backward glance, but he caught her upper arm. The momentum turned Ino to face him, and sunlight sparkled on the tears spilling down her cheeks. Shikamaru sighed and wrapped his arms around her

Somehow, Shikamaru found himself on the couch, tangled up in Ino's arms, watching the sunlight play with shadows outside his window. For the first time in months, it felt like he could breathe again.


End file.
